Priest of the gladsome tidings, old and new,
To whom by nature fell, as the most fit,
The saintly Channing’ s mantle; brave and true,
Thou heedst thy calling, and dost well acquit
Thyself of the high mission. Thy sage wit
( O brother in the Lord, and well approved
To lead men heavenward to the Father’ s throne,
And Son’ s that sits at His right hand beloved! )
Hath ministered to every clime and zone
Washed by Pacific or Atlantic sea,
With chainless flow’ neath Heaven’ s unbounded cope.
Son of the Church, saint of thy century!
Undoubting faith is thine, and fadeless hope,
And ardent, all-embracing charity.